


Tales of Room 413

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are all sorts of stories about Room 413. Tall tales, urban legends, anything you can think of. Some people'll tell you it's a state of mind, or the quad, or one of the hangouts.</p><p>None of those are true, so sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anatomy and Physiology

"Welcome to Anatomy and Physiology. Despite the fact that most of you are from different grades, and therefore may be taking easier or harder classes in addition to this one, I would like to remind you that you all _chose_ to take this class. I expect you to keep up with the work as best you can. If you can't handle things, then I encourage you to seek assistance." Mr. Riveach, despite his stern words, smiled at his class and waved his hand around the room. "My schedule is posted on the wall right by the door, our TA will be in later. Get her email address, she will be your _lifeline_."

He tapped a stack of papers on the desk, straightening the stack. "Any questions, class? No? Your loss!" With a grin, he started passing the papers out, sometimes tossing them right into the lap of an unlucky student. Equius Zahhak was one such student. As Mr. Riveach danced by, humming all the while, Equius scrambled to pick up the syllabus and schedule that had been practically tossed at him. As one of the few non-freshmen in the class, Equius was feeling rather isolated.

Then again, Equius pretty much always felt isolated. He was too large, too sweaty, too awkward—too _everything_ bad, it seemed like. His classmates tended to give him a wide berth, and he responded by spending his time in the library and studying. Actually, that had secured him several academic awards for excellence. Oh, and sports. Some of the coaches had practically staked out his homeroom class to get him on their teams. A freshman that big and tall would be an asset it most of the contact sports.

Still, no amount of Varsity letters or Academic Achievement Awards were going to help him out in this class.

 

* * *

 

He had made the fateful decision during his academic conference. The further you got in your classes, the more choices you were allowed. Kind of like college, his brother said. As much as he enjoyed helping his dad out around the metal shop, some part of him was enamored with horses. That had led to an interest in other animals, and...well, even if he was just a sophomore, it was never too early for him to choose his majors. A double in Mechanical Engineering and Pre-Veterinary Studies. As awkward as he was around his classmates, Equius was actually looking forward to this conference.

Mr. Vantas (no relation, claimed a shouty voice every time it was brought up) was the Dean of Students. Equius had often come into his office, not to talk, really, just to sit quietly, in neutral company. Dean Vantas seemed to understand that he wasn't interested in conversation, but he still took the time to greet Equius whenever he saw him, and ask a question or two about his day, his studies, the latest game or tournament.

At any rate, Equius sat in the Dean's office, trying to calm his racing heart. His course catalog was settled neatly on his lap, along with a pair of filled out planning sheets. Dean Vantas looked at him over the top of his glasses. "You're doing very well, Equius. Actually, you're somewhat ahead of the rest of your grade."

"Er, thank you, sir." The first time he had tried to overload his schedule, some of the teachers had taken issue. Mr. Vantas gave him a semester to prove that he could handle it. "I was hoping to take Honors Chemistry during the summer. It would certainly look better on my transcript to have Advanced Placement Chemistry done early."

"What field did you want to go into, Equius?" The Dean pulled out a blank course planning sheet and spread it on the table.

He hadn't actually mentioned this part to Dean Vantas. His family had been very supportive when he had explained his aims to them. "I had been planning to double major in mechanical engineering and pre-veterinary studies, sir."

"Fantastic!" Equius nearly fell out of his chair. "It's extraordinarily rare to see someone who maintains their interest in such diverse subjects!" A huge smile had lit up Mr. Vantas's face, and he ducked under his desk, tugging out a course catalog. "Hm...for veterinary medicine, you might want to take Anatomy and Physiology paired with Anthropology this semester. I think it could fit into your schedule nicely."

His face colored quickly, but Equius grabbed his own copy of the schedule planner. True, it was almost full, but he could fit those classes in. "Thank you, Dean Vantas. I look forward to participating in that class. I believe it will be conducive to my goals."

It had taken Mr. Vantas a while to get used to Equius's formality, but by now, he just smiled and continued on. "Now, English is the same for everyone, but we should discuss your social studies choices..."

 

* * *

 

And now he was sitting in a class that he was definitely going to fail. Dean Vantas had not mentioned anything about _drawing_. There was no way he could manage a class that required such a ludicrous thing. He had gotten basic art out of the way early on, so that he could take far more interesting classes, like metalworking and glassblowing. Actually, he hadn't even wanted to take art classes, but Symphony Orchestra had conflicted with all of the sports he'd wound up, so art it was.

The teacher was explaining something now, and Equius dutifully pulled out the notebook he'd assigned to the class. He'd color-coded them, starting with red for his least important class, and working his way across the spectrum. "...and I would like to remind you that this is a one semester course. Every test counts, and no one wants to be working themselves up from a bad grade." At least today was only housekeeping. With the state of shock he was in now, Equius didn't think he'd have anything like coherent notes.

Maybe he could go see Dean Vantas about getting his schedule changed. A few moments of one-handed searching in his backpack revealed a planner, and a wide open space in his schedule, right after this class. Equius smiled and settled back in his chair, feeling much better already.

  
  
There was a cheerful knock on the door, and Mr. Riveach paused in his lecture. "Ah! Our TA is here!" He crossed the room in three steps, practically skipping, and swung the door open to reveal a petite girl in a comfortable looking green jacket and dark blue jeans. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Nepeta Leijon! Even though she's sophomore, she's taken this class before. And, might I add, was one of my very _best_ students."

Nepeta laughed, bouncy and cheerful, and waved at the class. "I'm really looking forward to helping with this class!" She turned to the teacher. "Sorry about that, I sorted things out with my schedule, so I should be able to come to at least one section per class."

"Oh, good. If you don't mind writing your name and email on the board..." Mr. Riveach trailed off as Nepeta headed for the whiteboard, then resumed his speech on the grading system and late work policy as she scurried to the back of the classroom. Equius glanced at her once or twice. She'd pulled out a thick notebook, and a set of pencils. Obviously, she was the perfect TA for a class that required art.

 

* * *

 

The second class ended, he was on his feet, packing up his backpack and slinging it over a shoulder. He had an hour and a half break, and he needed to track down Dean Vantas and get some lunch before noon, or football practice would be miserable. Lost completely in his own thoughts, he didn't notice the patter of footsteps behind him.

"Hey! Hey, wait up!" Nepeta huffed, and picked up her pace. Damned long-legged kids! "I said to wait!"

Equius blinked, and turned about. "Pardon, did you happen to be addressing me?"

"Yes!" She skidded to a halt, and glared at him from an adorable short height. "Geez, you REALLY don't pay attention to your surroundings! How come you don't get sacked more often?"

This was...admittedly disconcerting. His new TA was a pint-sized spitfire, full of energy and cheer, and currently, annoyance at him. "Uh, that's only, that only really can happen to quarterbacks? For the rest of the players on the field it would merely be a tackle, and you are not actually supposed to tackle anyone who does not have the ball..."

"Oh. Well that makes as much sense as the rest of the game!" She grins up at him, then sticks out his hand. "Equius, right? I saw you at orientation last year! And I think you were in my English class, first semester?"

His memory throws up a few scenes of a green coat bobbing through the quad. "Ah, yes. You wrote your short story about a cat with ninety-nine lives?"

"So you _do_ remember me!" This seems to please her, and she grabs his hand, shaking it thoroughly. "I haveta admit, I'm kinda surprised to see you in this class! What made you decide to take it?"

"Oh, ah, I was...it would assist in my goal of double majoring in Pre-Veterinary Studies and Mechanical Engineering, more so on the first than the second." This draws another bright smile from her, and she digs out her own course schedule. Equius (barely) manages to hide a wince—her backpack was definitely contributing to entropy.

"I want to go into Veterinary studies too! Actually...I've got a two hour break! Want to get lunch? We can talk about the class, you seemed a little panicked when I first walked in!" Somewhere in the back of his mind, he's thinking that he _really_ ought to go and see Dean Vantas, but, well. It's been a while since he's eaten with anyone who wasn't on a team with him. And if anyone could help him with a course, it had to be the TA, right?

 

* * *

 

About a month passes, and the deadline to change classes is about to pass. Nepeta had become a common companion, whether he was studying in the library, or eating lunch. In fact, he'd found himself enjoying her company more and more, and their conversational topics had expanded from academia.

Or, as she put it, they'd become friends.

It was an odd feeling. To most of their classmates, he was the weird sweaty kid, and she was the anime cat girl. Of course, being responsible for more than a few football victories can buy a lot of cred, and being the head of the anime club pretty much guarantees you some friends. But the two of them could be friends outside of their social spheres. Because they had _chosen_ to.  


Now if only he could pass the damn class.

  
As much time as Nepeta had put into tutoring him, _nothing_ seemed to stick. Oh, certainly, he had everything memorized, and he dared anyone to challenge him on the written portions. But when it came to sketching things out for class, or drawing out some of musculature of animals, he failed utterly. He forgot the placements, and drew things off-scale, he'd add things in and leave things out. Even on _horses_.

It was troubling, to say the least. One of his absolute favorite classes, and he was struggling in it so much. The teacher had been kind, explaining that that drawing ability was not as important as one might think. Eventually, he would get the hang of it. Just...try to remember the hearts next time? The last thing Equius would stand for was mediocrity, and this was almost _worse_.

Nepeta had tried almost literally everything, even going so far as to bringing him "How to Draw" books. He had politely refrained from commenting on the fact that most of them were anime-based, and she had politely refrained from commenting on the fact that his first attempt looked like it had an ocular disorder.

 

* * *

  
  
"I just don't GET it! I've SEEN your Chemistry homework, and your Biology papers weren't that bad..." She dropped her head onto the table, groaning. "How did you manage it THEN and not NOW?"

He colored slightly. "Those were merely plants, Nepeta, and therefore not at all difficult to draw."

His long-suffering study buddy waved her hand in his general direction, refusing to raise her head. "I know, I know, it's a mental block-thing—" She paused mid-sentence, and he waited for her to continue. This happened, from time to time, and he'd learned early on that interrupting merely annoyed her. "I've got it!"

And she bounced up and sprinted out of the study room.

  
  
"Well," he muttered, completely nonplussed, "that hardly ever happens."

 

* * *

  
  
Equius didn't really have to wait long, though. Nepeta trotted back in, and this time her arms were heaped with books about machinery and mechanics. "We've been going about this the entirely wrong way! Instead of trying to make your brain fit around the animals, we should make them fit inside your brain!"

He stared at her. This was supposed to help? "...that makes no sense at all, Nepeta. How on earth am I supposed to fit an animal into my brain?"

She dropped the books onto the table with a heavy thud. "Analogies!"

He continued to stare.

"Ugh! Okay, I'll explain it the _slow_ way." Nepeta sat down, pulling a book towards her and opening it at random. It was full of glossy pictures of machinery, beautifully crafted motorcycles and cars in high definition. "So a car has all these parts, right? And it needs all of them to work properly! Oh, sure, it can probably run without the fancy paint job, and there might be bits and pieces of the car itself that aren't _absolutely_ essential. But it's still not, say, a Beetle!"

That...that actually made sense. "I see! So the paint jobs would be analogous to, say, a tiger's stripes or a peacock's feathers? Certain styles are made for camouflage, while others are intended to stand out?"

"Now you're getting it!"

  
  
They spent the rest of the day bouncing ideas back and forth. The headlights could work like night vision, the mirrors were like peripheral vision for predators, and the panoramic vision of prey animals. Even when their ideas didn't fit, it was fun just trying to come up with them, a kind of fun that neither of them really had before.

 

* * *

 

A few months later, he was back in Dean Vantas's office.

  
"Well, Equius? What did you think of Anatomy and Physiology?" That was one good thing about the Dean. He was truly serious about his commitment to his students, even going so far as to keep tabs on their progress. And he was always _excited_ about it too, whenever they passed a test, or learned something new. He'd even gone skipping down the quad on a rainy day. "Was it conducive to your goals?"

Equius smiled at the Dean, and Mr. Vantas blinked. It was rare to see a smile from the boy. "Definitely, sir. Even to some goals I did not realize that I should have." _Such as making a best friend._

  
The Dean smiled back at him, and pulled up his current transcript. "Then I expect you'll want to continue to Anthropology?" Equius settled back into his chair as Mr. Vantas explained the merits of taking the course as a continuation. Sure, it wasn't his main field of study. But who knew? Maybe he'd find another goal that was worth having.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Askblog Stories Project, as a gift for dyzzyah, who runs http://advicecatnip.tumblr.com/
> 
> Song: (The song for this story should be Chin Up Cheerio, by Taryn Harbridge. But unfortunately, she's taken the video down. Visit her anyway, she's quite good! https://www.youtube.com/user/SaphireRain42)


	2. The English Project

Jane peeked into the Home Economics room. Although she was on excellent terms with Mrs. Ye, the Home Ec teacher, she was still hoping for some quiet time to start off her project for English class. Fortunately for her, no one seemed to be there, and she trotted in cheerfully, dropping her bag on top of one of the tables. "Hmm...now where on Earth could I have put that notebook?"

This year's curriculum included the absolutely wonderful idea of allowing the students to choose their own project, whether it was building a birdhouse or writing a story, as long as they kept a journal about it. Most of Jane's classmates had groaned in absolute disgust, but she had been completely ecstatics. This was a chance to show her baking skills in a completely new bailiwick, and there was no way that she would let the proud Crocker name down.

 

She rifled through her backpack, finally unearthing a well-used notebook with a light blue cover. Humming to herself, she flipped through its pages until she came across one of her more recent cake designs. "No, no, that's simply too overdone! Why am I even looking at these?" Jane huffed and set the book aside. Today was just preparation for the actual think, trying to decide which flavors of cake batter and filling would work best. At any rate, she had already determined that the "topsy turvy" look was out of style. Jane shook her head, pulling her neatly folded apron out of the side pocket of her bag, and heading for the kitchen.

The apron was something of a consolation prize, seeing as her father still refused to let her bring her favorite spoon to school. Protests of "It's not even dangerous in the slightest!" had been met with a stern fatherly gaze, and Jane had eventually given in. But her Betty Crocker uniform didn't leave her side for even an instant in exchange. Jane tied it on carefully, then set up her laptop. Dirk had sent her a new playlist the other day, and she wanted to listen.

"I think you'll like it, Jane. Most of the songs seem like they'd fit the swing of your baking sprees." And after all, it was only polite! He'd gone to so much trouble.

 

That sentiment lasted until "The Bare Necessities" started playing, and she had to roll her eyes at her friend's taste.

 

* * *

 

At this moment in time, an unseen denizen of the Home Ec room sat bolt upright. He'd been in one of the smaller sewing rooms, reading quietly as he ate, for reasons that he'd prefer not to disclose. Namely, he'd gotten into another argument with one of his friends. Again. But the Home Economics teacher was more than used to wayward students looking for a quiet place to eat—now that he thought of it, most of the teachers seemed to be willing to put up with students who needed some kind of sanctuary.

But his quiet illusion had been irreparably shattered by...was that the Jungle Book? Kankri peeked out from behind the curtain as some girl he vaguely recognized sashayed through the room. Maybe in one of his classes? Or in the quad? He edged closer to the edge of the curtain. She was certainly familiar, what was her name...? "Jane!" 

Jane jumped. The door hadn't opened and shut, right? And the teacher said that there weren't any classes at this time! She looked around the room, rather terrified that some kind of spook was haunting her. "Wh-who's there? I warn you, I'm armed!" With a spoon, actually. So maybe her father WAS right about those things being potential threats. "Come out with your hands up!" 

 

Kankri blinked. That girl definitely watched too many cop shows. Still, he obliged, sidling out of the room with his hands raised. "I take it that you don't mean to do me any sort of violence with a wooden spoon? Considering the fact that it would probably violate at least one of the codes of conduct in the student handbook, I think it would be most unwise to take any sort of action of an injurious nature—"

She was staring at him. Oh, great. "Pardon. I, ah, had been reading in the side room when I heard your music start up and I recognized you."

"Kankri, right?" Jane knew that he looked familiar, and the lecture had mostly sealed it. She headed for the small kitchen, opening up the cabinets and trying to find a mixing bowl. Hmm. Someone must have moved it. "You ran for class president and got disqualified for going over the time limit?"

His cheeks colored, but he nodded. "Not one of my better moments, I must admit. May I ask what business you have in the Home Economics room?"

"I ought to be asking you the same thing!" And there was the mixing bowl, on one of the highest shelves. Oh, she'd have to get a chair now. "Mrs. Ye gave me permission to use the room today. I had been hoping to choose a flavor to use for my English project. What did you have planned?"

Kankri had slipped into the kitchen after her, and Jane nearly jumped when the tall boy leaned past her to grab the mixing bowl. "Is this what you needed? Ah...well, I had hoped to go through some old civil rights books to find a topic for my presentation, which, I suppose, explains why I am in here. It is difficult to do research and eat lunch in the library without running into some sort of conflict." Well that was half-right, and it wasn't like he needed to get into any details. Stupid Porrim.

 

"Oh, thank you." She set the bowl on the counter, then ducked back down, gathering the rest of the tools she'd need. "So if I have this straight, you are planning to present on a social justice topic? That sounds like something you would do even without an assigned project. Maybe you should try something different?" One last touch, the Betty Crocker SuperMoist Cake Mix! If only she could narrow down the mutlitude of choices avaible to her...

"You are hardly one to talk, Jane. Considering the fact that your project is baking?" That girl had absolutely no right to be casting stones! "What exactly is so 'different' about baking a cake using your family company's cake mix?"

Jane opened her mouth, _perfectly_ ready to retort—

But. He was right, wasn't her?

It was hardly anything "new" or "different" or "creative" for her to be baking a cake, even if it was her first time attempting to create a scene with fondant. Oh, she wanted to bake a cake for her project, of that much she was certain. Still...he was _right_ about the fact that it wasn't any different from what she did daily. Right then. Jane turned back towards him, with a determind look on her face. "Right then! I'll do something completely new, on ONE condition!"

Kankri regarded her warily. "And what might that condition be?"

"You have to help!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Askblog Stories Project, as a gift for abnest, the mod of Ask Glasses and Shades (http://askglassesandshades.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZeLFI2fTH8A ((The Bare Necessities, by Louis Armstrong/Harry Connick Jr. Cover by SayakaAlessandra))


	3. Extended Advisory Period

"Just ASK her, Equius!" Nepeta was practically skipping to keep up with her best friend. Usually he remembered to shorten his strides when they were walking to class together, but he seemed distressed enough to forget. "The dance is TWO WEEKS AWAY, and you're being a complete idiot about this."

"That is a completely ludicrous proposition, Nepeta, and I am not." He refused to look at her. If he didn't look at her, he could avoid further torment. Hopefully. "At any rate, it is simply a dance for the freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior classes. It is hardly necessary to bring a date along, and I do not see the point in asking her to accompany me."

"And you're scared."

"And I'm sca—hardly! You are putting words into my mouth in a most impolite manner." His speech was more clipped and precise than usual, and that was saying something. Equius, ever uncomfortable with the slang that slipped into the vocabularies of many of his teammates, took extra care when speaking.

"Scaredy cat!"

"If you are going to make insulting animal comparisons, I would much prefer to be called a spooked horse."

"Being called a cat is NOT insulting!"

 

The bickering on the merits of cats versus horses lasts you long enough to duck into AP Chemistry. Nepeta was in regular Chem, but you had decided to take the Honors Chem class over the summer, and you'd been a little surprised to find out that you weren't the only sophomore in this class. Still, this is _one_ place that Nepeta can't pester you, and for that, you're exceedingly grateful.

Nepeta's head pops up around the door just as you slump to your seat in blessed relief. "Just THINK about it!" The teacher coughs, and she flashes him a brilliant smile before darting off. Honestly, he'd probably have been happy to let her stay, but you're more than grateful that he sensed your distress.

Somehow, you find it in you to concentrate during the two hour lab period, which is harder than some might think. First of all, you have to keep your mind on your task, and off of Nepeta's pestering, which raises the additional problem of not trying to think about the absolutely gorgeous girl in your Anatomy and Physiology class. Nepeta had caught you staring, which had sparked off this whole quandry in the first place.

 

But how could you _not_ stare? Aradia Megido was simply exquisite, for all that she seemed a little odd. In fact, she was one of the most dedicated students in the class, and the teacher always seemed to enjoy conversing with her, whether it was addressing the points she brought up, or answering her sometimes rather, ah, macabre questions. It had taken a supreme effort of will to keep your note-taking at its standard level. She was brilliant and beautiful, and the idea of speaking to her outside of the class was terrifying.

Once Nepeta had realized the source of your unfortunate distraction, she had started pairing the two of you up for class projects. Not simply the ones where you needed a partner to finish the lesson, but those assignments where you were required to complete your group work outside of class. To make matters worse, the teacher seemed to be _humoring_ her. It was simply ludicrous.

Aradia handled everything with marvelous grace, though. "Looks like we're working together again, Equius! Which animal did you want to focus on this time?" She was always cheerful and smiling, and she always seemed happy to see you. Why, just yesterday, you had returned her wave in the hallway, instead of using your customary nod of acknowledgement. Things were perfect like that. Now if you could have only apologized to her for your best friend's behavior without bringing it into the light. And _everyone_ seemed to be on Nepeta's side of the argument.

 

There had always been slightly derogatory comments about Aradia—not that anyone disliked her, they simply found her "odd" or "creepy". The moment your teammates had found out about your interest in her, the comments had ceased, and they had started teasing you in the locker rooms, asking if you had asked her out on a date yet. It was difficult to be so rude, but you had managed to wave off their queries with practiced ease (and whatever Nepeta said about blushing and stammering was a lie).

It was almost sort of nice how supportive everyone was being, except for the fact that none of them seemed to realize that you were perfectly content to admire from afar. There was no need to actually ask Aradia out to any dances or the movies or _anything_ , really, being in the same class was just fine.

 

Which is why you were starting to wonder if you had gotten a concussion during last night's practice. Because for some reason, you were standing in front of Aradia Megido's advisory classroom, with a colorful sign (it had glitter all over it), a back up chorus (your teammates), a bouquet of flowers (roses), and a back up chorus. Did you mention the back up chorus?

Oh, and there was an audience as well. You were pretty sure someone was filming this. That concussion theory seemed pretty solid. Or it might be a horrible dream? If you weren't wearing pants, it probably was—nope, still had your pants on.

 

The door opened, and your heart stopped. Behind you, the chorus started up—sweet lord, they'd brought instruments. "Hey, hey baby! I wanna know, if you be my girl!" They weren't half bad, actually, even if most of them tended toward the bass end of the scale. But they were somehow managing on the harmonies. "When I saw you walkin' down the street, said—that's the kinda girl I'd like to meet! You're so pretty, so fine—I wanna make her mine, all mine!"  


Aradia blinked at you, and you felt as if you were going to throw up. "I. Uh."  


  
"Oh, _finally!_ I thought I was going to have to ask you!"  


You're not entirely sure what happened after that, but you vaguely remember her smile. That smile was definitely worth the humiliation. 

(And whatever Nepeta says about you fainting is a dirty lie.)  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as part of the Askblog Stories Project, as a gift for the mod of Ask the Zahhak Family (http://askthezahhakfamilly.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Song: Hey Baby, Pure Heart cover ((http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NBqg7c6cZHY))


End file.
